The Daily Dormouse. (aka Bike) Part 1951 by Angharad Copyright © 2013 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

“Mummy, are you going to wear shorts for your next film?” asked Livvie.

“I haven’t decided yet–I might just wear a bikini, stay up stockings and high heeled shoes.”

“Oh, wouldn’t you be cold?” Obviously irony doesn’t work with Livvie.

“It would certainly increase your audience in one direction, perhaps we could do some glamour shots for page three for the day before.” Erin wasn’t impressed with my teasing.

“Shall we go and get some ice cream?” I offered as a reward for the girl’s good behaviour.

“Ooh, yes please,” was the unanimous decision of the girls.

“I think this should be my treat, don’t you?” Erin topped my offer. “And your mummy and I could have a nice cup of coffee.”

I followed Erin and we pulled into a couple of spaces alongside a row of shops and a cafe. She led the way and we took a table near the window. The sunshine was lovely but that wind was cold. However, it didn’t stop the girls eating their ice creams and having a fizzy drink while we settled down to empty a pot of Earl Grey tea.

“How did you think it went?” I asked Erin.

“Yeah, it went okay. You got over your survey website, and also answered a few questions. I don’t for one minute believe it will stop Boris from shooting urban foxes because they don’t have a vote and can’t answer back. So they’re an easy target.”

“I suspect you’re right. I wish there was some way of pointing out the truth to him, but there isn’t–he’ll do what he thinks will get the most votes when he seeks re-election, whether or not that is based upon fact, is probably irrelevant.”

“Foxes are an easy target unless the will of the people says otherwise. Boris is a populist, if he thought it would cost him votes, he’d change tack.”

“But we’ve told him this, Steve Harris was on radio the next day telling people what he said today. Foxes aren’t the problem, humans are.”

“So can we ask Boris to start shooting people? I have a few he could start with...” offered Erin.

Trish looked very seriously at her, “You can’t go round shooting people–it’s against the law–though Mummy did it.”

If Trish spoke in a quiet voice, it would be okay, but she doesn’t. She talks loudly and assertively. I blushed hotter than my tea. I wasn’t sure if Erin knew about this aspect of me–Cathy Watts mass murderer.

“With a camera, I expect,” she said and showed she didn’t know about it.

“No–a Kalashnikov.”

Erin looked suitably astonished.

“Didn’t you, Mummy?”

“I don’t think this is the time or place to discuss this,” I said firmly to my daughter, but she wasn’t to dissuaded.

“She saved us from some bad men who shot at us and injured two policemen, didn’t they, Mummy? Mummy fired back and the car drove into the loch, didn’t it, Mummy?”

“I’ve already told you, I don’t want to discuss it, so just drop it will you?” I was feeling embarrassed, and aware that everyone in the cafe was looking at us. On a scale of one to ten, I felt about level twelve.

“So, Cathy, is this a new departure?”

“I don’t wish to talk about it.”

“Oh, okay,” is what she said, but her expression said that she’d love to do nothing better.

“Mummy helped the pleece catch two robbers last night.” Trish was on broadcast volume again.

“Trish, please.” I tried to hush her, but she’d started, so she’d finish.

“They were trying to steal our car. I heard them and woke Mummy who called the pleece and then she went to help when of the baddies stabbed one of the pleecmen.”

Once gain I was sure the whole cafe was listening because any background conversation seemed to go quiet.

“The man was trying to stab Mummy an’ Livvie suggested throwing a bucket of water over him to distract him. So that’s what we did–well, I did...”

“It was my idea,” protested her sister.

“Yeah, but it was me who done it,” Trish insisted showing that school fees might have been wasted.

“Brave girls,” commented Erin. I was trying to get the floor to swallow me.

“Mummy done one of her high kicks and knocked him out, then she saved the pleeceman who’d was stabbed.”

“Well, well, all three of you are very brave,” was Erin’s pronouncement, and the rest of the customers in the cafe began to clap–talk about embarrassed–I was off the scale.

I was soaking wet with sweat when we managed to escape the cafe and I thought I’d never go back there again.

“You must tell me about the Scotland business some time,” was Erin’s parting shot.

My muttered response was, ‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ I mused on it for a moment. It wasn’t something I was proud of, killing people never can be, because it’s about the worst thing anyone can do. Even in self defence it’s unpleasant. However, I lived with it and felt at the time it was justified because I was trying to save lives and was the only thing I could do. So while I regretted having to do it, I felt it was necessary, so it didn’t cause me sleepless nights. At the same time it isn’t something I wish to talk about–like I don’t really want to talk about my SRS–it was necessary but not a conversation piece.

We drove to my parent’s house and got the bedding in and I was pleased it was dry and reasonably aired. I put it in the airing cupboard where it would stay dry and the warmth from the tank below the shelves stopped any dampness. I think I’ve mentioned I leave the heating on low and the hot water also gets a boost every day. The cost of the gas is probably less than a repair for a burst pipe and the redecoration necessary.

I had texts from Simon and Stella to say they’d enjoyed the broadcast and Tom apparently was very pleased to get the department mentioned–plus, I mentioned him by name as head of the survey–well he was the titular head, I did all the work.

By four, we’d packed everything up and I locked up the house again, and we set off for home. The two girls fell asleep with the motion of the car, plus the excitement of the night with the attempted robbery and I mused once again on the day and Trish’s penetrating voice giving the whole world a running commentary on things you’d prefer they didn’t know about. She’s extremely clever, but still only eight years old, which is easy to forget. She seems so advanced and precocious then does something which rocks you back on your heels and suddenly you realise she isn’t a midget adult, she’s very much a child at times, and her brain is super quick but lacks maturity and experience and those are only gained the hard way.